All the Difference
by Runs with Werewolfs
Summary: Those nights, lying with my head on his chest, were what made all the difference in my life. Kames. angsty Kendallcentric. cutting.


All the Difference

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My life has been far from perfect. My dad died fighting in the war in Iraq when I was 14. It was the hardest thing in my life. Before my dad died, my life was difficult, it wasn't just that that has made my life hard.

Everyone knows about Katie, my little sister. but not everyone knows about Kyle, my older brother. Kyle and I were five years apart, and he was my best friend, more so than Logan, or Carlos or even James. I hero worshipped my big brother. When I was 10, I stayed home sick from school one day. That ended up being a good thing.

The school we went to was all on the same campus. Katie was 3, and in preschool. I was 10, a fifth grade with my best friends James, Carlos and Logan. That day, my mom went to take Kyle lunch because he forgot his. We got the school and found it on lock down and ambulances everywhere.

I can still remember running towards where a school secretary stood, coughing and panicked and asking her what was going on. I can still remember her telling me and my mom that there was a shooting. I can still remember when they started bring the victims out. There were only 2 dead. And one of those happened to be Kyle.

There were a lot of people injured, though, including Logan and Carlos. They were both minorly injured, Logan fell running in a panic and hit his head and knocked himself out, a typical Logan move, and Carlos had a bullet graze his shoulder. I found out about 2 years later from James that James could have been killed that day too. The shooter had pulled the trigger and everything. But my brother had pushed him out of the way.

I can still remember when they brought Logan and Carlos out to take them to the hospital, James following behind with a bloody knee because when Kyle pushed him, James slid across the black top and scrapped his knee up. I had begged James to tell me what happened, clung to him for an hour, but he had refused, saying I didn't need to know. He'd kept the secret for two years, that at least my brother had died a hero.

* * *

It was 2 years after James confessed what had happened the day Kyle died, the day I found out my dad had gotten himself killed as well, that it started. I'd acted out of rage about my dad's death and thrown a plate against the wall, shattering the plate. My mom had yelled at me and told me to clean it up. She and Katie had gone upstairs to bed, and as I was cleaning up, I cut myself on the glass.

It felt good, to my surprise. Over the next year, I covered my hips with small marks. I didn't do it that often, maybe once a week, whenever things became just too much. I didn't care that it was wrong and I could kill myself if I did something wrong, it felt good. It was a release from it all.

However, there came a day, about 3 weeks after my 15th birthday, that I wasn't as careful about hiding the marks. Well, I was, but I forgot to lock my door while I was cutting and James, who was spending the night, walked in.

"K-Kendall?" I heard his voice first and turned around. He was standing at the door, a horrified expression on his face. He stepped into the room quickly, shutting and locking the door. "Wh-why did you do that?" he stuttered, confused.

"Because it's how I cope" I had told him. I can remember grabbing his wrist and pulling him to me. "It makes me feel better, see" and in my messed up mind, what I did next made sense, but looking back now- I don't understand why I did. I had him trapped, I've always been stronger than him, and with one movement, I pressed the blade in my hand into his wrist and dragged it across his wrist, drawing blood. He squeaked and ripped his arm back.

"Kendall!" James had shouted, pushing me onto my bed, using his bulk to pin me to the bed. Grabbing my wrists into one hand, he grabbed the blade from my hand and put it on my nightstand. "Knock it off, Kendall!" He had commanded. "You're going to kill yourself."

I had struggled against him, attempting to get up. "James, you don't understand!"

He had slid off of me, landing on the floor by my feet. "I don't. Why are you hurting yourself?" he had asked. "It makes no sense, why would you destroy your body?"

"It feels good" I had said.

"a lot of things feel good."

"This makes the pain stop for a while." I continued.

James had simply glared at me and stood up, taking the blade and snapping it in half. "You're not getting this back, and damnit it, Kendall, if you lock that door and do it again, I swear I will get the key and force my way in here." He had said as he left.

He didn't bring it up again for a while, although I knew he had told Logan because he and Logan both kept going out of their way to make me happy and to cheer me up. However, a week later, I had been lying on my bed, considering finding a new razor and cutting again, when James had burst in with a bright pink canvas bag over his shoulder and a serious look on his face.

"James, what the heck are you doing?" I had asked sitting up.

"I went online and found ways to help you" James had said, sitting down on the foot of my bed and beginning to dig around the pink bag.

"Why is it pink?" I had asked.

"It was Melanie's last year" James said, referring to his 17 year old sister. He had pulled out a piece of paper. "Someone recommended ripping up paper when you want to cut, or drawing red on the paper."

I had raised my eyebrows. "You're insane"

"Am i?" James asked. "Mel recommended it. Her best friend used to cut. She said that helped. If you won't get help, then I'm going to help you." James announced. "I love you and I don't want to see you hurt."

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After that night, I never cut again. I didn't want to see James hurting because I was being what he deemed as selfish. I began seeing a counselor, although I never told my mom. James's oldest sister, Samantha, paid for it at James's request. My mom just always thought I was going to James's house, which was technically true.

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James and I became more than best friends about 6 weeks after he convinced me to stop. In retrospect, James's love was probably what kept me from picking the habit up again. He means everything to me, and I don't know what I'd do without him. He's the only thing in this life that I can't live with out. My beautiful, amazing, wonderful James. If you spent five minutes with him, you'd probably never guess that he's the only reason I go on living some days, other than the fact that Katie and my mom need me. But still, them needing me didn't make me happy, it just kept me hear. James loving me and needing me made me happy.

James has been the one constant in my life since I was 4 and we met at the Preschool. Our mom's knew from the moment we met and he let me borrow his toy microphone (I used it to beat Carlos over the head) and I let him use my junior hockey stick (he used it to knock Logan's books off the table) that we would be best friends. Those were our prized possession and for me, not even Kyle touched my hockey stick, and for James, not even Melanie, who he worshiped, got to use his microphone.

Over the years, I had figured out that I loved James more than I loved anything else, really. More than hockey, more than any girl I'd ever seen. There's just something about the man that I can't get enough of. I can't live without James at this point, and I don't want to try. The best part about Big Time Rush is that I get to spend almost every waking and sleeping moment with James. It's a fan boy's dream come true and I'm living it.

I still have my issues. I probably always will. But James knows exactly when I'm struggling. He's got me figured out. After five years of dating, you just know a person, I guess. I know him and what makes him act the way he does too. We basically run off each other. If I'm depressed, James's first indicator is that he too, becomes depressed.

Last night was the worst depression I've ever had since James and I started dating. I was _this close _to stealing James's razor and cutting. James won't let me near a razor without his supervision, just in case something happens and I slip. I'm kind of surprised that he doesn't insist on shaving for me. But that would just a little bit weird and controlling.

You'd never guess by knowing us that James is the dominant one in our relationship. In public, I'm so much more bossy, a leader and James is just- girly, there's really know other way to put it. But in the same people, there's just two totally different personalities when it comes to relationships. I guess with James, alone, it's the one time I can let my guard down and make my emotions be known.

It feels so good, sometimes, to just be held. James always knows by my face when I need to be held, too. He'll always pull me into his arms at the exact time I need to have his arms around me. Maybe we're mentally connected, or he's just amazingly in tune to my emotions. He just knows.

Tonight, was one of those nights. Kyle died 10 years ago, and I just can't comprehend it. James knew the moment I walked out of our bathroom this morning, and he wrapped his arms and me and just held me there, for over an hour.

I don't remember the last time I used me pillow. I almost always fall asleep with my head on that chest of his. He has the best set of muscles I've ever seen, that man of mine. Whenever I get upset, he urges me to cry, and somehow, I always end up sleeping with my head on his chest. Those nights, lying with my head on his chest, were what made all the difference in my life.

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A/N: Idk. I just- I've been angsty today. And I am going to dedicate this to two people, Ryan (rayjpop) and Kattarina (Unthinkable13). Both of them have said something in the last 24 hours that has reminded me that I'm not in this alone. I'd go check out both of their stuff, they're both so talented. :)

I think most of you know that this will be my first Christmas without my dad. I don't want to sit around and complain about it, but at the same time, it sucks. I haven't been feeling Christmasey lately. I'm hoping with the start of break will come some Christmas cheer. My angst wasn't helped by the fact that my first completely nonslash oneshot was a flop. Sadness.

I don't know how this came out of my dad being dead, but it did. Strange things happen at 2 am, k?

I'm going to go on an updating spree hopefully tomorrow :) or Friday by the latest. :)


End file.
